Upon the Fields of Barley
by Mina1914
Summary: Consensual and loving sex, after Francis returns from a business trip in Berlin.


A/N:_ This is a fill for a prompt on the FrUK kink meme index. The prompt: "fruk - consensual and loving sex"_

* * *

It was obvious Arthur was anxious each time he poked the needle through the fabric. His fingers trembled as he pulled it down and over, his eyes stared distantly at his in-progress embroidery work. It was supposed to be a forget-me-not flower, but it was turning out to be a bit distorted.

He exhaled a shaky breath through his lips as he jabbed the needle through again, his foot jiggling a bit, his legs crossed. Hoping the ticking of the grandfather clock would soothe him and his jumpy body, he ignored his anxiety, and tried to focus on the noise. It didn't really help, but it brought ease to his mind. A little.

When he stabbed his forefinger by accident, he cursed aloud and withdrew his hand harshly, to observe it. A bead of blood pooled, so he placed his embroidery down, and stood from the flower-printed couch (that he chose, mind you, he won that argument with Francis) to pace to the kitchen that was separated from the living room by the sudden change of carpet to linoleum.

His shoes, yes, he wore his shoes in the house, tapped against the crème linoleum as he paced to the sink, the running of the water breaking the silence. He held his finger under the water, washing the blood away, and then wiped his hands on the hand towel that was draped over the oven's handle. After turning the water off, he hesitantly glanced at the grandfather clock across the living room, and swallowed.

Francis' plane was landing in another hour. Sighing, he walked back into the living room to grab his embroidery. After he turned and walked into the room for the staircase, he ascended the stairs to go to their bedroom.

Once he put his embroidery away and checked his reflection in the mirror (which he never did), he went back down the stairs, and approached the coat closet by the front door. Many re-considerations and options went through his head as he slowly grabbed his coat from it's hanger, his lips pursed in deep thought.

Should he go early? Or wait until he absolutely had to go and pick him up?

Sighing, Arthur decided he didn't give a damn, and pulled on his coat before he grabbed his keys and phone off the side table that sat beside the couch. Once he turned off the lights, and made sure he looked decent one last time, he yanked open the door and strode out, locking it behind him.

It took him a while to leave the drive way in his Jaguar; he sat there for a moment, staring at the front of their Victorian house with a blank look. He wasn't so sure why it was so difficult to just go to the airport and wait for his damn husband to arrive.

Maybe he wasn't so ready to see him again after five weeks.

Scoffing, Arthur shook his head at his own stupidity and backed out of the driveway, the gravel crunching under his tires as he swerved out of the property, onto the pathway that lead to the heart of Paris.

Francis had been gone for five weeks, on a business trip for his in-progress photography career in Berlin. Arthur had no idea what he was taking pictures of, but it was his job, so he didn't complain. And now that the trip was over, he obviously was coming back.

It was strange for him not to fill the house with Arthur. Arthur always expected the hot water to be used up in the morning, and for the TV to be left unattended as well as their fireplace, from time to time. Francis was really forgetful when it came to those things. And he always left bits of his things everywhere, for Arthur to pick up and put them back in place. But now that that was gone, Arthur's eyes searched for things that were still in place – or gone with Francis on the trip, out of habit.

Anyways, Arthur was sitting in the airport's lobby now, at a café. As at home, his legs were crossed with his foot jiggling with impatience and with lack of ease. His arms were tightly folded, and his eyes were fixed on that area where the passengers came in.

Once the announcement came of Francis' plane landing, Arthur become more unsettled. But once about twenty minutes passed, the passengers began to flood the lobby, and Arthur's vision sharpened and his foot stopped jiggling.

When he spotted him with a bag slung over his shoulder, and his hair tied back in a messy low pony-tail, he stood, all his anxieties gone. Francis' eyes were fixed on something in his hand though, so Arthur began to make his way to him. Then he felt a vibration in his pocket. He didn't care at first, but he noticed what Francis was looking at in his hand was his phone, so he dug his own phone out, and opened the text he sent.

"Where are you?", the text read, from Francis. Arthur grinned to himself, and stopped in his footsteps. He looked up back to Francis, noticing how he was being completely oblivious to the fact Arthur was only about twenty steps away from him. He was now looking around the airport lobby, but not in Arthur's direction.

Arthur replied with, "I'm right here." Arthur sent it and then looked back up to him, watching as he opened the text. With a laugh, Arthur approached him just as he looked up in his direction, finally.

A wide, teeth-revealing smile spread over Francis' lips, and he closed the distance between them with two big strides. Arthur looked at him for a moment, at his smile, and wanted to kiss him, but thought it would be best to just embrace. He would kiss him, but not in public.

"Welcome back.", he said, before he pulled Francis into a hug, wrapping his arms around his waist. Francis shifted a bit in his arms, pushing his bag out of the way to return the hug. Arthur felt him kiss him on the cheek, and felt his stomach flip.

Arthur pulled away, and smiled at him. Francis laughed, "Thank you. I'm glad to be back!" Arthur stared at him for a few more moments as he went on about the plane ride, before he grabbed his hand. "Can you tell me about it at home?", he asked, before Francis started about how attractive the flight attendants were.

"Of course!", Francis answered brightly, allowing Arthur to pull him out of the small crowd.

The whole thing was very brief, Arthur described it as in his head. Just how he liked it.

When they grabbed Francis' single briefcase and left the airport, Arthur was basically silent as Francis explained that the people in Berlin were odd, to him. Arthur hmm'd and nodded occasionally, but he just wanted to get home and go back to routine, so he shoved his suitcase in the trunk with a little more force than necessary.

"Hey, next time you should come with me.", Francis said as he got in the car, buckling his seat belt. Arthur started the car, "Depends where we would go." Francis only nodded.

It was a ten minute ride out of the bustling area of Paris, back onto the path that led to their property, through the high fence of trees. It began to rain lightly during the ride, so Arthur rolled down the window a bit, welcoming it gladly. Francis was staring out the window, at the thicket of nature they passed, while he spoke nothing, which was a bit strange. Whenever Francis came back from a trip, he described every detail, each time Arthur drove him back home. Arthur was secretly thankful he decided silence was wanted.

But the silence lingered between them even when Arthur parked before the house. And it remained when they both got out. It continued as Francis took his suitcase from the trunk. Arthur pressed his lips together in worry as he got out, his eyes wandering over to the back of Francis' head, who was now walking towards the front door, hauling his suitcase along. Sighing, Arthur locked his door before he shut it, and went after him.

Francis was waiting for him at the front door, his eyes distant, staring at the pot of flowers Arthur had kept alive when he was gone. "You can tell me about the trip during dinner, if you'd like.", Arthur spoke finally, smiling at him lightly as he took his keys out.

"Of course. And you can tell me about how much you missed me!", Francis said brightly, as if he snapped out of his sudden depression. Arthur eyed him, wondering if something's wrong. "Yeah, yeah.", he replied in a tired tone, brushing it off like he always did. He expected a snooty reply, but none came. He huffed and pushed the door open, glancing at Francis again.

The Frenchman was staring at him, taking him off-guard. Francis smiled at him, before he walked into their home, pulling the suitcase inside as well, his bag still slung over his shoulder. Arthur followed quietly, shutting the door behind them. Francis had made it to the lightswitch first, so Arthur walked into the lit entry way, raising his eyes to see Francis taking his trench coat off, his hair hiding his face as he did so.

"I'm sure you've thought deeply about the meal you're going to prepare us tonight, hm?", Arthur began, desperate for anything but silence, for once. Francis cocked his head to the side, to look at him, with a teasing expression on his face. "You're starting conversation with me with the topic of food?", Francis observed, and then chuckled. Arthur felt his hands grow sweaty, in embarrassment.

"I don't know what to say, when you're not saying anything.", Arthur snapped, and then crossed his arms. Francis laughed, increasing the uneasiness for Arthur, and hung his trench coat up in the coat closet, before he turned to face him completely.

"Well, I usually exchange kisses before speaking. I like to keep routine.", he said simply, looking Arthur straight in the eyes with a smug look. Arthur stared back, his eyebrows scrunching up crossly.

"So, you have yet to welcome me home properly.", Francis concluded, growing a smile on his lips before he grabbed his suitcase and turned to walk to the staircase. Arthur huffed to himself, and then shut the coat closet with harsh force.

"It's always like this with you!", Arthur called, following him up the stairs, his hand trailing up the banister. Francis hummed, and climbed the last step, turning into the hallway. Arthur trailed behind, "Being..immature!" He paused his carefully planned argument, and realized that wasn't too good. Francis was grinning as they went into their bedroom, obviously enjoying his return thus far.

When Francis placed his bag down on the bed, and lifted his suitcase up to unzip it, Arthur frowned. He watched in silence with crossed arms and a displeased expression as Francis took out his folded clothes, placing them on the comforter, and then dug out the novel he read on the trip – which was considerably large – and placed that on the bed as well.

"Do you really have to unpack now? You just got back.", Arthur complained, tapping his fingers on his biceps. Francis glanced at him over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow, and then exhaled. He averted his attention from his things to his husband, turning away from his suitcase to walk to him. Arthur glared at him as Francis placed his hands on his biceps, over his fingers. He looked into Arthur's bottle green eyes sternly.

"If you want my attention, the price is one kiss, sweetheart.", he said, and then smiled. Arthur rolled his eyes, and pushed his hands away, "Why do you have to make everything a competition?" Francis leaned towards him and puckered his lips with exaggeration, and closed his eyes.

Arthur cracked a small smile, and smacked his shoulder, resisting the mock temptation. Francis opened his eyes and laughed, pulling away and turning to his suitcase again. "Let me put my clothing away, and then I can begin dinner.", he said to Arthur, his back to him.

"Don't take too long.", Arthur said lastly, before he turned and left the room for Francis, not wanting to loiter in wait. He walked down the hallway and paused at an open doorway, to glance in at his library. The urge to pick out a book didn't win, so instead he resumed to going downstairs.

When he was sitting on the same flower-patterned couch, with his legs crossed and his hands in his lap, he listened to the creaking of the floorboards, his eyes fixed distantly on the mantle of their fireplace.

Secretly, he was very glad Francis was back. Well, of course he was, he did miss him. But he was relieved things would go back to normal around here. He didn't have to greet silence in the morning anymore, or watch step-by-step simple recipes from YouTube to produce a half-assed version of the dish. Although, Francis would go on another trip eventually, but hopefully not too soon. Arthur hated to alter routine.

"Sorry for the wait.", he heard Francis' voice apologize from the foot of the stairs, on the other side of the living room. He nodded lightly, and let his eyes focus on him. "I had been waiting for five weeks, so it wasn't much.", Arthur mumbled to himself sourly, and averted his eyes to Francis, who was walking into the kitchen, silently debating whether he wanted him to hear or not. Francis was oblivious to what he just said, too busy with putting his hair up again, as he always did before cooking. Arthur sighed deeply, strangely happy he gets to see that again.

Standing, he cleared his throat and walked towards the kitchen, seeing Francis move to take out various cooking supplies. "Is there a way I could help..?", he asked, hoping for a positive answer, even if he knew that Francis preferred doing all the work. He told him it was because he didn't want to take any risks in harming his cooking utensils as well as the kitchen itself.

Francis raised his eyes to him, his lips in a tight smile. He brushed his bangs back, and stood straight, placing the frying pan on the stove. "No, you know how I wish to do this, Arthur. Maybe if you learn basic kitchen rules, we can work something out.", he said in a apologetic tone, and gave him a small smile, before he turned to fish out his thick cookbook. "Oh, but you can help me clean the dishes afterwards, if you'd like.", he said to him as he flipped it open, a few notes falling out. Arthur glared at him as he crouched down to pick them up.

"I always do the cleaning anyways.", Arthur hissed lowly, and turned on his heels to stride out of the kitchen, fuming. He ended up in his library upstairs, as always. That's where he went to whenever he was agitated.

He inhaled deeply the minute he stepped in, the scent of books calming him, as it always did. His eyes wandered over the shelves of books, and then he approached the farthest one. The different colors of the spines were, in a way, charming.

Arthur ignored quite a few, his eyes fixed for a specific name. When he spotted 'Dahl', he smiled lightly, and reached up to pluck out his favorite one by the author. Surely re-reading The Big Friendly Giant (also known as The BFG) for the thousandth time wouldn't do any harm. Honestly, he lost track of how many times he's read it. After taking a seat in the armchair in the corner of the room, he opened the book to the first page, and allowed the sunlight for his vision.

He was entirely enveloped in his book, a smile spreading over his lips occasionally from specific parts, for an entire hour, until he was interrupted by a few light raps. He had to force his eyes from the page, with hesitation, to look up. Francis was standing in the doorway, his lips curved into a soft smile.

"Dinner's ready.", he informed him.

Arthur realized just how stiff his legs were when he uncrossed his legs and stood.

* * *

Francis mostly went on about how he helped this injured cat that he found on the sidewalk on his way to the nearby library one morning, but he also included some things about the people and the shops as well as the weather. Arthur listened as he ate, and commented occasionally. He was somewhat interested.

When they both finished eating, Arthur thanked him for the meal and then gathered the dishes, with Francis' help. They finished the dishes fairly quickly, seeing as Francis refrained from speaking once more. Which was strange, because he usually talked when they cleaned the dishes, but Arthur didn't really mind, he was a bit tired.

And once they finally put the dishes away and retired on the couch – both of them too lazy to ascend the stairs, Arthur glanced at the grandfather clock, and noticed how late it became. He had sighed deeply, and melted further against Francis' side, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Mh, I think I still owe you that kiss.", Arthur mumbled, his sleepiness easing his stubbornness away. Francis chuckled lazily a few times, shaking slightly, making Arthur grumble from the movement. "You're going to have to move – I'm too full and content.", Francis hummed. Arthur exhaled, "Lazy tosser."

Francis laughed a few breathy laughs, and turned his head to Arthur, and closed his eyes, waiting. Arthur looked up at him, and stared. He pursed his lips side to side, and then shifted a bit to scoot higher. He raised a hand to place it over the back of Francis' head.

"I'm gonna kiss you now.", he warned, teasing, and then hoisted himself up to press his lips lightly against the other's. Francis hummed with approval at first, and then turned himself a bit to face him with his torso. He slid his arm over the back of the couch and then around Arthur, pulling him closer.

When he began to kiss back, Arthur put an effort into sitting at a better angle, moving his legs off the couch, and straightened his back a bit. Butterflies soared in his stomach, the sudden realization he was kissing his husband again after a few long weeks hitting him like a bag of bricks.

He lost his breath, and pulled away to gasp. Francis pecked him on the lips softly, and ran his hand down his back. Arthur opened his eyes to look at him again, his face flushed. Francis was already looking at him with his alluring eyes, his face blank but his eyes searching. Arthur grinned.

"Hey, did you know you've been gone for a while?", he reminded him, snaking a hand up to tap him on the bottom lip, his lips now curved in not just a grin, but a cheeky smirk. Francis smiled widely too, his teeth revealed. "Ah, oui.", he breathed, and then slowly ran his hand up to rest it at the nape of Arthur's neck, his forefinger playing with the hair that rested there. When he angled his head and pressed their lips together again, Arthur gladly kissed back.

The kissing – that had been dearly missed – lasted for a minute or two more, until Arthur broke away and suggested laying pillows onto the floor, between the couch and the coffee table. Francis liked the idea, so they spent the few next minutes gathering pillows from upstairs (and locating the bottle of lubricant), and laying them vertically between couch and coffee table. Might as well make it as comfortable as possible. To add to the comfort and feeling, they lit the fireplace as well, which cast a nice glow to the room, wakening shadows.

When they finished creating the make-shift bed, which wasn't completely necessary seeing as they had a professionally made king sized bed upstairs, they admired it, side by side.

"Have we done it here before?", Arthur asked lightly, shifting from foot to foot. Francis paused, and hummed. "On the couch, I think. Not on the floor, though.", he answered, staring down at the silk tassel pillows with amusement. Arthur ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

Arthur cleared his throat, and then turned to face him with his lips curved upwards and an eyebrow raised. Francis glanced at him, and then turned to face him, with a smile on his lips and a bright look in his eyes. Arthur firstly placed his hands on Francis' hips, and then ran them around to rest on the small of his back. Arthur flickered his eyes to Francis' lips, and then leaned over to kiss him strongly on them with vigor. Francis reached a hand up to hold his cheek, and moved his lips with Arthur's, but with much more relaxation.

Arthur began to unbutton his dress shirt with ease, sliding each button through it's designated hole slowly, not wanting to rush this at all. It's been a while since he's touched Francis like this – five weeks was actually long, Arthur was dependent sometimes – and now that he can again, each caress and kiss were much more prominent and made his stomach flip.

When he made it to the last button of Francis' dress shirt, he paused. "Let's lay down.", he offered, after pulling away from the kiss. Francis nodded.

Once situated on top of the pillows, with Francis leaning over him, Arthur's face was burning up and he was already so turned-on, with Francis kissing at his neck and shoulders and collarbone. With his shirt already gone, and Francis working on his jeans, Arthur didn't know what to do with his hands.

Just placing to his sides would be weird, and he would feel embarrassed placing them on Francis' head or shoulders. He pressed his lips together, not sure what to do. Then when he felt him pull his jeans down, along with his underwear, the concern lashed away from his thoughts.

The air on his arousal definitely made him yearn for friction to shoo away the cold, but Francis only placed his hands on Arthur's sides. "Hey, why am I the only one naked?", Arthur breathed, failing to sound annoyed. Francis paused, and then pulled back. Arthur blinked, and watched as he stood.

He opened his mouth to complain but the desire was lost when Francis unbuckled his slacks and let them fall to the floor, beside his previously discarded shirt. When Francis eased his underwear down his legs, Arthur openly stared at his half-hard penis.

Francis chuckled a few times, and then lowered himself to crawl back over Arthur. Arthur was blushing a bit, and his heart spiked when Francis pressed his lips passionately to his own. The thought of this repeating tomorrow and the day after tomorrow brought a smile to Arthur's lips as he returned the kiss, his hands sliding over Francis' shoulders.

The sensation of his cold hands pressing against his stomach made Arthur jump slightly. He pushed Francis up a little, disconnecting their lips. "You're hands are really cold!", Arthur hissed, and fought back the urge to push them away. "Sorry", Francis murmured. When he suddenly curled fingers around Arthur's cock, Arthur raised his knees, and sucked in a sharp breath.

Francis grinned down at him, "If I do this, it'll warm my hand up." Arthur glared at him. Francis' grin faltered to a soft smile, and then he lowered his head a bit to kiss Arthur gently on the lips, before the cheek. Arthur licked his dried lips, feeling Francis begin to stroke his arousal with slow, fluid strokes. He closed his eyes, and focused on the sensations. Each time Francis neared the head, he applied pressure, squeezing very lightly. And each time, Arthur let out some sort of approving noise, his hands resting over Francis' shoulders.

Francis had to use his other hand to support his weight, while his other hand was busy being warmed up from the friction. His lips were pressing softly against Arthur's jawline, and then his shoulders, with his eyes closed. Then, he pulled back to look at Arthur's face, and his eyelids. It definitely wasn't as entertaining as a response that he could get if he took farther measures to pleasure him. And, he wanted to see more.

Without a word, Francis scooted down, until his face was level with Arthur's arousal. It was pressing against Arthur's stomach, so he had to reach up – with the previously warmed hand – and hold it straight, his other hand resting on Arthur's hip. Arthur by then was looking down at him, propped up on his elbows. He sucked in a breath, realizing what Francis wanted to do.

"Fr-", he began in protest (he knew Francis disliked giving oral), but his words were cut off by a surprised groan that eluded from his throat. Francis lips were already sucking onto the head, his tongue running flatly over the slit, wiping away any pre-cum. Already satisfied with the response, Francis hummed, and took a little bit more in, continuing to suck harshly.

He lifted his lips slowly, sucking lightly as he did so, and then ran his tongue up the underside, covering the skin completely with his tongue. He heard a few more gasps from Arthur, and felt his hips fidget and shift under him. Francis loved teasing, so he pressed a kiss to the tip, and then moved his hand from holding his hip, to caress his balls. He cradled them in his fingers, and ran his thumb over the skin, and it eased a quiet moan from Arthur.

"Ah, god, Francis..", Arthur breathed, gripping the pillow in his hand by his side. He was still propped up on his elbows, and it was becoming a chore, so he fell back on the pillows, and closed his eyes again. The heat from Francis' lips and teasing mouth felt really good, obviously, and although he preferred giving oral (he had some self-conscious insecurities regarding his own body, so he didn't really ask for oral or the like often, if at all) than the other way around, it was nice once in a while. But the teasing was driving him insane, he just wanted the heat.

"Please, mmh..", he whispered, and then arched his hips with a small buck, silently asking Francis for more. Francis couldn't help but grin lightly, and began to slowly stroke him, his saliva making it easier to.

"Please what?", he asked simply, licking his lips. He wanted Arthur to beg.

Arthur sucked in a breath, and then propped up on his elbows again, to look at him with lust-filled eyes. "I want my cock in your throat. You keep teasing me.", he answered his question – in a way – with slitted eyes. Francis laughed, "You didn't ask nicely."

The Brit rolled his eyes and then licked his lips, and decided to humour him. "Please, Francis, please stop teasing me and use your mouth.", he said in a monotone voice. Francis frowned at him, "That wasn't what I was hoping for."

"Oh well.", Arthur said, and fell back down onto the pillows. Despite the lack of sexual tone, Francis smiled to himself, and then opened his lips to slowly take him in his mouth again. At first, he flattened his tongue widely over the head, for surface area, and then sucked on the tip lightly. He reached his other hand up to brush his long hair over one shoulder.

Then he placed it over Arthur's hip again, and added pressure, just to make sure Arthur didn't thrust up into his mouth. He hated it when people did that. Although, Arthur knew he did, so he knew to refrain from doing so.

When he began taking him deeper in his mouth, he made sure to keep sucking gently, his eyes screwing shut. Arthur was panting, and his eyebrows were furrowed with pleasure, his knees raising a bit.

"Ah..", he breathed and then let out a groan when Francis opened his lips widely, and took him all in his mouth and throat, his nose meeting with his skin, his lips secure around the base. Francis held there for a moment, letting his tongue rub against the shaft, before he slowly retracted, his brow furrowed.

After catching his breath, he did it again, taking him deep in his throat. "Oh, a-ah, Francis, stop.", Arthur gasped, and began to sit up. Francis lifted his head slowly, sucking lightly, before he sat back. He wiped his lips off with the back of his hand, and looked up at Arthur, seeing him pant heavily, propped up on his hands.

After licking his lips, Francis went back to Arthur to kiss him on the corner of the lips, and then grabbed the lubricant from the coffee table by their side. Arthur brushed Francis' hair from his eyes.

"I-I love you. I missed you.", Arthur breathed and then pressed a soft kiss to Francis' cheek, resting his hand on the back of his neck. Francis paused with his hand on the lubricant bottle's cap, and felt his cheeks heat up at the words, his eyes fixing on Arthur's.

He smiled genuinely and let out a breathless laugh, "I love you too, dear." He set the bottle on the floor and pulled Arthur into a loving embrace. Arthur grew rigid at first, and then melted into his arms. "I didn't expect this.", he mumbled into his shoulder, his arms trapped between their chests, so he couldn't return the hug.

Francis pressed a kiss to the side of his head, and pulled away to grin at him. "I wasn't expecting that, either.", he said in reply, and pressed his lips strongly to his husband's in a tender peck. Arthur returned it briefly, and then smiled at him. Francis couldn't help but kiss him again.

When Arthur pulled away, he chuckled. "Can we do this, now?", he asked lightly, a bit flustered and embarrassed. Francis smiled, and nodded. "Of course." Then he grabbed the bottle again and popped the cap open, before he titled it over, and squeezed a bit of lubricant onto his fingers and in his palm.

After placing it on the coffee table, he sat there and let the lube warm a bit, his eyes wandering back up to Arthur. Arthur couldn't hold back his meek smile, and looked at the pillow between their legs, avoiding his eyes, embarrassed still. His face flushed a little bit.

When satisfied with the warmth of the lube, Francis shifted, scooting closer. Arthur licked his lips, and then moved to get in Francis' lap. Francis opened his arms, letting him move. "Uh, can you just..", Arthur mumbled, letting his sentence trail off. He raised himself, propping up on his knees.

He grabbed Francis' hand and guided it around. Francis got the idea, and reached his other hand around to gently hold Arthur's backside. Arthur let out a shaky breath, and placed his hands on Francis' shoulders. When Francis spread his cheeks apart with his hand, Arthur bit his lip.

Francis was quick to finger him with his wet digits, only briefly preparing him. Arthur had let out a quiet groan once or twice, and went silent when he withdrew his wet fingers, his face flushed again.

"Can you lay back, please?", Francis asked in a light tone, patting his thigh.

Arthur sat down in Francis' lap for a moment, his hands still resting on his shoulders lightly. He sniffed, and nodded, before he leaned back, returning to the tassel pillows. The soft fabric of the silk welcomed him, the plush of the pillows comfortable under his head.

It was making him embarrassed to let Francis look at him like this, and when Francis shifted to get between his legs, he sucked in a breath and felt his face heat up. They must have done this a million times, but each time, Arthur grew self-conscious. He couldn't help it.

With his hands clenched into fists by his sides, propped up on his elbows again, Arthur watched as Francis stroked himself a few times with his lubed hand, until his arousal was completely wet with the lubricant. Francis shifted to sit on his calves, and leaned over Arthur to press a brief kiss to his unsuspecting lips.

Arthur raised his hands to hold the sides of Francis' face, and kissed back until Francis leaned away again. Francis slid his hands over Arthur's thighs, his eyes fixed on the other's. When he trailed his hand up to slowly stroke Arthur's cock, Arthur instantly melted, relaxing a bit.

"You don't have to be so tense.", Francis murmured, his free hand moving over Arthur's stomach and then up his chest. "Shut up, I can't help it.", Arthur shot back, his lips curling downwards into an uncomfortable frown. "Well, why are you tense?", the Frenchman asked lightly, and slowed his hand to a stop, earning a small, displeased noise from his partner.

Arthur shifted on the pillows, and looked away, at the couch's leg. "Can you just get on with it?", he grumbled, hating that he, himself, was making this complicated. This was supposed to be only relaxing and enjoyable, yet he couldn't help but let his concerns disrupt it.

"No, no. I can't when you're uncomfortable.", Francis said and crawled over Arthur again, leaning down to kiss at his neck and cheek lovingly a few times. "What is it, Arthur? I want to know so I can help to make you feel better.", he whispered and pressed a soft, short kiss to the Brit's lips, which were unresponsive at the moment.

Arthur continued to glare at the couch, mentally self-hating. He crossed his arms to add emphasis to his frustration. Francis kissed him lastly on the cheek, "It scares me to not know what is bothering you.." Arthur let out a sigh, and looked at him with an agitated expression.

"I'm glad that you're back, really I am, but, being the jealous person I am, I can't help but worry you cheated on me when you were away! And with that thought of you fucking someone else and then moving on to me makes me want to throw up.", he answered his question in a aggravated tone, and then looked away again, with his brow tightly furrowed.

Francis stared at him, his face a bit surprised with his eyebrows raised. After a moment, he let out a harsh exhale. When he inhaled again, he gently grabbed Arthur by the chin, and turned his head so he would look in his eyes.

"Firstly, I wonder why you don't trust me in the first place. As I do recall," he held up his other hand, wiggling his fingers, showing the ring, "I made an oath, yes?" He eyed Arthur, who was looking at him with a pursed frown and searching eyes. "Secondly, no, I didn't cheat on you because I love only you. And your body. No one else's." He paused, to scrutinize Arthur's expression (it had fairly eased into something unreadable), and then continued, "I don't ever plan to."

He cleared his throat, and raised his eyebrows at Arthur, informing him he was finished. For a while, Arthur only stared at him, and flickered his eyes away and back again, before he licked his lips. "Fine. I'm sorry for doubting you..", he mumbled, and then felt a weight lift off his chest. His hands fiddled on his stomach, his eyes averting from Francis'.

When Francis suddenly, strongly, pressed his lips flat against Arthur's, Arthur jumped lightly, and his hands flew up. He instantly began to kiss back passionately, letting his arms wrap around Francis' neck. The kiss made Arthur's thoughts blurry and distant, and his stomach became a home for butterflies again. He felt Francis' hands rest on his sides, his thumbs stroking the skin as they kissed.

Arthur had to pull away eventually to inhale deeply, and then pressed a soft peck to his lips once more. Francis laughed lightly and opened his eyes to look at Arthur with a wide smile. Arthur repressed his smile, but it was still obvious with the corners curving upwards.

For a long moment, it was silent. Well, not entirely. They were listening to their soft breathing, the soothing crackling of the fire, and the ticking of the grandfather clock. Arthur noticed how dimly lit it was. The fire cast shadows onto Francis, dancing on his skin. Arthur reached up to touch the black with his fingertips. Francis gazed down at him with adoring eyes, his lips slowly forming into a gentle smile. Arthur was beautiful in the flickering of the fire's light. He knew he was going to remember this exact moment forever, even when they were very old men, bickering at breakfast.

"I love you," Francis began in a clear tone, reaching down to take hold of one of Arthur's hands, and raise it to his lips to press a kiss softly to the skin. Arthur looked up at him with bright eyes, and even Francis could see the hint of blush on his cheeks. "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if we have arguments constantly. I want to cook everyday for you from now on. I want to sleep beside you every night, and wake up beside you every morning to kiss you.", he breathed, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, "I want to grow old with you, Arthur."

Arthur had gone still, his breath stuck in his throat. His heart swelled, and he could feel it drum rapidly. He remained silent for a moment, completely stunned. After sucking in a breath, he found his voice. "That's what's planned, love.", he whispered, reaching his free hand up to brush his fingers across Francis' warm cheek. Francis smiled brightly.

The silence, then, continued for a few minutes, the crackling of the fireplace overlapping the sounds of their kissing. Everywhere, it was warm. Arthur could feel Francis' hands spread the warmth, and it formed this nice, sweet feeling in his core, making him feel like he was going to die from feeling loved.

"Arthur.", Francis whispered once he lifted his lips from Arthur's. Arthur opened his eyes to look at him, and then nodded. Francis sat back and reached for the lube bottle, and let a bit more fall into his palm. He didn't wait to warm it, and slicked his arousal with it again. Arthur watched, his face a bit flushed, and shifted when Francis propped up on his shins. Francis rested a hand on Arthur's thigh as he adjusted himself.

Biting his lip, Arthur watched him, his neck craned to see, as he pressed the head to his entrance. He leaned back onto the tassel pillows, his stomach twisting with excitement, and looked up at Francis. He rested his hand over Francis' on his thigh, and smiled lightly when Francis responded by curling their fingers together.

The head slipped in easily. Arthur licked his lips and looked up at Francis, seeing him stare down between their bodies, where they were connected. A flow of blood rushed into Arthur's cheeks. Francis continued to look as he slowly pushed deeper inside his partner, watching as his cock disappeared, until he was pressing in all the way. Arthur craned his head back a little, and sucked in a breath. "I'm all the way inside..", he heard Francis murmur.

Arthur felt the hand holding his squeeze lightly. Francis shifted between his legs, and let his hand go to lean over him again, placing his hands on the pillow above Arthur's shoulders to gain balance. Arthur reached up to hook his arms loosely around his neck, his forearms resting on his shoulders. The long, golden locks of Francis' hair fell down between them.

Francis hadn't moved for a moment; he took the time to admire Arthur's flushed face, and his messy hair. Messier than usual. After he pressed his lips to Arthur's in a loving kiss, he withdrew and rolled his hips forwards again, earning a small groan from his partner. The arms around his neck tightened a little. He continued this movement repeatedly, and each time a stuttered noise of some sort came from Arthur's lips. He could already feel that familiar sensation in his abdomen begin to wind up.

In this case, the pillows were a smart thing to do. Rug burn wasn't pleasant.

Arthur opened his eyes again to look up at him, seeing his hair fall past his shoulders, and his eyes shut, his mouth open with his heavy breathing. Arthur pulled an arm back to raise his hand and brush Francis' hair out of his face, earning Francis' charming eyes to open. The fire illuminated them.

Francis looked down at him for a moment, and then brought his head down to kiss him on the lips, caressing the side of his head with his hand as he continued to rock his hips. Arthur moved his lips back against Francis' until he grew breathless, and pulled away to suck in a sharp breath.

Francis moved his hand from Arthur's head to grip the pillow, and began to thrust his hips at a harsher pace, his eyebrows furrowed. Arthur groaned and writhed, his eyes screwed shut when he felt the sensation in his abdomen intensify. He reached his hand down to begin stroking his neglected arousal in rhythm with Francis movements, which made him breathlessly moan.

Each time Francis bucked his hips forwards, Arthur let out a quiet groan, his hand continuing to stroke his cock fluidly. He felt Francis lean over him, their chests and stomachs pressed together, his arms resting beside Arthur's head.

The sensations of Francis suddenly kissing at his neck and collarbone brought butterflies to Arthur's stomach. He felt his lips moving upwards to his jawline, to his cheek, and then to his lips. Arthur was already breathless, so it was difficult to respond strongly, but he was able to press a few weak kisses. He opened his eyes once he felt Francis lean back and run his hands up his sides, caressing him. The warm hands traveled upwards, over his chest, and over his shoulders, spreading a nice warmth. Arthur bit his lip, and stopped touching himself to reach up and rest his hand over Francis' stomach, and then ran it up his torso, to his chest. He rested it over his heart, feeling how fast it was beating.

Arthur panted lightly, his lips curving into a soft smile at the feeling. His arm grew tired, so he slid his hand back down, and hesitantly began to stroke himself again. Francis moved his hands to grip Arthur's legs under the knee, and began to pound into him, the sounds of their skin meeting repeatedly disrupting any other noise. Arthur arched his spine and craned his head back, his mouth slack.

The fire made it a bit unbearably hot, that it made Arthur sweat. The body heat also helped with that. It was uncomfortable, the sweat on his back making the pillow stick to his skin. He was too distracted to care all too much, though. He grit his teeth.

When the rocking of Francis' hips became fewer, and the thrusts softened to just a slow movement, Arthur could feel himself grow close to the edge, his mouth red and irritated from him biting it so often. He could hear Francis groaning quietly.

Arthur continued to move his fingers over the slick shaft of his arousal, the head dripping and red. He applied pressure around the tip, and at one strong thrust of Francis' hips, he moaned a bit loud, his back arching once more. His mouth was slack again, his eyes screwed shut. He hooked his leg around Francis' waist, digging his heel in the small of his back.

Francis stopped moving, still situated deep inside, with Arthur holding him in place. Arthur was gasping, his hand slowing a bit, when he came, a few ropes of his seed landing on his stomach, and the rest sliding down over his fingers. He slid his hand away, and rested it on his stomach. He kept his eyes closed as he regained his breath, his mind foggy from orgasm.

When he dropped his leg, he could feel Francis begin to slide out, but he instantly hooked his leg around again. "No, keep..going.", he breathed as he opened his eyes to look up at him, wanting Francis to finish without having to jerk himself off. When Francis hesitated, Arthur began to push his hips into him encouragingly. Once Francis leaned over him, and placed his hands on both sides of him for balance, Arthur sighed and leaned back against the pillows. He felt Francis kiss him lovingly on the neck a few times, and a hand rest over his stomach, touching gently. Arthur sighed lightly again, melting into his touches.

Noticing how sensitive he was from orgasm, Arthur clenched around Francis when he began to rock his hips back and forth again. He grunted quietly as Francis began to thrust into him at a faster pace, his body aching for a break. But only after about five minutes of relentless movement, Francis swiftly pulled out and propped up on his knees. Arthur watched through half-lidded eyes as Francis began to stroke himself, but it only took a few jerks, before the hot ropes of his ejaculation landed on Arthur's abdomen. Arthur shivered, and realized he was half-hard again.

Heavy panting emitted from Francis as he scooted up to lay beside Arthur. It was a bit cramped, so Arthur got up and pulled Francis' arm out, and laid back down, his head resting on his bicep. Francis turned onto his side, and rested his other arm over Arthur's hip. Arthur listened to his breathing, until Francis caught his breath, and then all went silent again. Even the fire died. Which resulted them to be bathed in darkness.

Arthur stared at what supposedly was Francis, and reached a hand up quietly to feel around. His fingers first touched warm flesh. It was a bit more solid than fat, so he assumed it was Francis' chest. After a pause, Arthur rested his hand flatly on the skin. It was warm, and comforting. Shortly, the arm over his waist lifted, and then he felt a hand rest over the side of his face, and then began to stroke his short hair slowly, in a loving way.

"I don't want you to go again.", Arthur murmured, breaking the silence. He heard no response instantly, and his heart fell into his stomach, afraid that he shouldn't have said that. Even the hand brushing his hair paused. But after a moment, Francis exhaled and said, "I won't. In a while. I didn't realize what I was missing when I left." He continued to stroke his hair again. Arthur smiled at that, and raised his hand from his chest to feel around for his head. He touched hair, and then followed the locks up to his forehead. Francis remained silent as Arthur touched his eyebrows, followed the bridge of his nose, and then to his lips. Arthur followed his hand to said lips, and moved his fingers out of the way to kiss him. Francis tightened his arms around him, and happily returned it, a content hum sounding in his throat.


End file.
